My husband goosed me, but I assure you it wasn’t the goose I was wanting.

Because there is no way in hell I can make this up…I’m gonna keep it short.

At 9:06 am this morning, I called my husband while he was on the job.

My husband.

The PoPo

The Fuzz

The 5-0.

Yeah. Sorry. Anyway.

I called and he answered. He always, always answers.

(Not because I could be on the side of the road with a flat. Or because I’m maybe in a hold-up situation. Or because I’m being mugged.)

(No.)

(He always, always answers because he knows that since I married him, I feel I am somewhat an extension of the law now.)

(He always, always answers because of the time I called him while in a chase with a car who hit me from behind on the freeway then took off. I called him screaming, “This stupid ass car hit me in traffic and then they took off and well now I’m behind them going as fast as traffic allows and we’re kinda weaving in and out of traffic and I need to know what to do because I have their license number and description of the car but they won’t stop and I can’t stop because I’m in too deep now and FOR THE LOVE OF THE LAW I NEED A DASHBOARD SIREN LIKE KOJAK HAD AND I KEEP TELLING YOU TO GET ME ONE AND YOU HAVEN’T AND THIS IS A PRIME OPPORTUNITY FOR ME TO USE IT!”)

(True story.)

(One and only time he’s ever yelled at me. “STOP CHASING ON I-35 AND PULL OVER NOW! YOU COULD BE KILLED!”)

(I did. I friggin pulled over. But I know I could have got’em. I know I could have. He has no faith in my law enforcing abilities.)

Anyway.

He answered and I heard something in the background but ignored it because, well, I needed something. Don’t remember what, but I’m sure it was important.

Keith: (In a vewy vewy low whisper) (And I meant ‘vewy’ and not ‘very’…not a typo) SHHHH. Do you hear that?

Me: OH MY GOD ARE YOU CRAWLING AROUND IN BUSHES AND DOING SOME KIND OF AMBUSH ON SOMEBODY?? GET ME A PICTURE!

Keith: Huh? Oh, my God, NO! But do you HEAR that??

Me: Yes…what is it?

(Now I’m whispering.)

Keith: I’ve got a goose in my truck.

Me: What the hell did you just say? Did the word “goose” just part your lips??

(He had a damn goose in his patrol truck. A goose. In his patrol truck.)

(Never in my life has anyone ever uttered the words, “I’ve got a goose in my truck” to me before 9:30 a.m.)

(Or after 9:30 a.m. for that matter.)

He had a goose in his truck.

A live one.

It was just “in the road and traffic was backing up and people wouldn’t go around it” so he had to get out of his truck and get it.

Not shuffle it to the side of the road.

Not trap it in a box and dump it in a field or something.

But get it.

(Yeah. I know.)

I immediately started sputtering: YOU KNOW THIS IS GOING WORLDWIDE, DON’T YOU?? YOU CAN’T TELL ME CRAP LIKE THIS AND THINK IT’S STAYING ALL JAMMED UP IN MY BRAIN. AIN’T HAPPENING.

He sighed and said: I figured that already.

All I want is a dashboard siren like Kojak had and maybe my own badge. I’ll even take a fake badge. But one I can flash out my window when some jackass won’t get out of the left lane going 47 mph below the speed limit.

That’s it. But instead, I get this:

Could I possibly love that man any more than I did at that very moment? No.